


Of Firewhisky and First Kisses

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-28
Updated: 2009-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [Fic Exchange '08] James encounters a drunken Lily.





	Of Firewhisky and First Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Merry Christmas, Jenny (ifer)!

.

"You're pretty."

 

"What's that?"

"You're pretty. D'you know that?"

James smiled nervously, staring at Lily as though he'd never seen her before. "Feeling all right, there, Evans?" he asked as she began playing invisible hopscotch on the tiled floors. He grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling; she smiled mischievously at him.

"I've got a secret!" She giggled and motioned for him to lean closer. She whispered loudly in his ear, "I'm drunk." The admission of this obvious fact delighted her, and she guffawed out loud. James pressed his fingers to his lips, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face.

"I see that," he replied. Lily grinned and struck up a conversation with a painting of a portly goat, who looked at her with goatly disdain and went back to munching a mouthful of grass. Unperturbed, she continued babbling away until the animal loped away into another frame. Lily pouted and turned back to James, who was watching her with a most bemused expression.

"Jamie. Can I call you Jamie? I'm going to call you Jamie. Y'know I—" She stopped suddenly, her green eyes focused on something at the other end of the hallway. "Jamie," she whispered, "I see dead people!"

James whirled around, thoughts of recent news reports on Voldemort's alleged army of Inferi swirling in his head. James was disappointed and relieved to see, instead of a frightening horde of zombies, only Peeves and Nearly Headless Nick gliding down the corridor. James closed his eyes, exhaling slowly; if Peeves caught sight of clearly-inebriated Lily, he'd wake the whole castle with his shouts. "Evans, do me a favor and stay really quiet for a minute. Can you do that?"

"Mum's the word!" She giggled, clasping her hands over her mouth. The ghosts slid by and, to James's surprise, said nothing about Lily, who was pressed against the wall, giggling profusely. A little frown creased Peeves's round face; but he was sufficiently distracted by Nick, who seemed to be giving him tips on how to get back on the Baron's good side.

"Well, then, let's get you back to the common room, Evans. Wouldn't want anyone else to see you like this." He grabbed her elbow and guided her down the hallway, keeping a lookout for other random passersby. "So," he asked pleasantly, "how, may I ask, did you manage to get in such a state? I'd never pegged you for the drinking type."

"I...I found some third-years with a bottle of firewhisky. And I...I confiscated it!" She giggled. "I'd never had any before, so I just took a little sip, and then another little sip, and then, and then...poof!"

James grinned. "You little minx! All these years, good Saint Evans has been up in her ivory tower, and then she gets tossed on a contraband bottle of Rosmerta's best!" Lily nodded in agreement, stumbling slightly. James sighed and scooped her up, deciding that carrying her back to the common room would be the quickest course of action.

After successfully evading all other students wandering around the halls, James carried a softly babbling Lily into the common room, where Sirius, Remus, and Peter were crowded around a small table.

"Oy, Pete, get off the couch!" James said, checking the room for other students. Peter scampered off the couch and plopped into an empty armchair; James gingerly set Lily down. She ruffled his hair affectionately and murmured something about lemons.

"Is that Evans?"

"Is she drunk?"

"Brilliant!"

The boys laughed as James recounted how he'd found Lily inthe East Wing, conjuring puffy pink clouds out of thin air. "Well, I guess you lot had best be getting to bed," he concluded.

"What, you want us to leave so you can have your way with Evans? Merlin, Prongsie, even I think that's low," Sirius remarked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Don't be an ass, Sirius," James replied.

"Yeah, Sirius, don't be an ass!" Lily repeated. She pulled out her wand and, before anyone could stop her, transformed Sirius into a large donkey. The donkey whinnied unappreciatively and shook its head. "An ass!" Lily cried, laughing.

"Oh calm down, you," Remus said as the donkey took a bite out of an end table. He calmly transfigured Sirius back to his usual shape.

Sirius shook his head and spat out a few wood chips. "Clever little drunk she is," he stated flatly. He grinned and cuffed James on the shoulder. "All right, we'll go up to bed, but only if you'll tell us all the details tomorrow at breakfast." The three boys climbed the stairs, whispering and laughing.

After hearing the dormitory door click shut, James turned to Lily. "So, Evans, what's on your mind?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because frankly, you're unbelievably tossed, and I find it rather endearing."

"Y'know, you don't always have to hit on me. It's getting old."

"I'll keep that in mind. You're the one who called me pretty, you know."

"I did not!"

"Did too. I promise."

She smiled sleepily and ran a hand along the side of hisface. "You could probably kiss me, Potter, and I wouldn't remember it tomorrow."

He caught her hand, rubbing her fingers and feeling how small and slight they were compared to his own. He imagined kissing her, a daydream he'd had a thousand times; he thought of how soft her lips would be, how she'd have to lift her head off of the cushion to meet his. He imagined the feel of her hair, the scent of her skin, how dazzling her eyes would be that close to his. "Nah," he whispered.

She frowned, confused. "But you could. You could. Kiss me, Potter."

He got up and sighed, draping a blanket over her. "Not now, Evans. Not here."

She opened her mouth to answer, but closed her eyes instead, snuggling deeper into the couch. "G'night, Evans," James called, climbing the stairs to his dormitory.

"Potter?"

He turned, a wistful smile playing on his lips.

"I love you." The words tumbled drowsily from her lips, and he saw that she was inches from sleep.

He hesitated, faltered, wanting nothing more than to race down the stairs and kiss her full on the lips. She smiled slightly, and he shook his head, turning once more to go to bed.

"I know."


End file.
